


So The Pearl Died

by smut_buddies



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, First Time, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jaspidot - Freeform, POV Second Person, Rape, Threats of Violence, or implied murder, pain play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5851555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smut_buddies/pseuds/smut_buddies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I was being kind. You haven’t been filling her position in all domains. But I think it’s about time you did.”</p>
<p>(Jasper's Pearl dies on the mission to Earth and Peridot is forced to pick up the slack. Mind the tags.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	So The Pearl Died

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to my smut buddy for beta'ing and also trying to teach me the difference between 'rake' and 'rack' and 'wrack' .-.

Jasper says it was an accident, but you saw the shards yourself. You had to clean them up; there was no one else but you. A few were scattered about the room, and most of them weren’t even _shards_ anymore; they’d been ground down to dust in the garbage compactor. There’s no way a _Pearl_ – as dumb as they are – would’ve crawled into a trash compactor, mistaking it for a crawl space or a vent shaft or a cubby hole for Bad Gems. Unless…

You don’t say it was suicide, but it was probably suicide.

You don’t want to think about the only other alternative.

 

You’re forced to work overtime. With the Pearl gone, you have to pull all of her weight, on top of yours. Between general maintenance and ship navigation and progress reports, Jasper yells at you to clean the floors, the cells, and attend to all the little non-essentials that used to be so beneath your notice because your tasks were so much more important. You’re a _Peridot –_ you breathe life into ideas, and turn science-fiction into science _fact._ You don’t _polish boots_ or _hold the capes of your superiors._

You’re not the only one to have your schedule disrupted by the Pearl’s abrupt absence. You see a lot more of Jasper than you want to, and you can tell that she’s… restless. Aggravated. She used to sit up in the control bridge – for no reason other than it made her feel important – and put her feet up on the panels and laugh, loud and obnoxious, to other Quartz warriors about how this mission is so tedious, so unworthy of her. And as much as you _hated_ how she left scuffmarks on the panels, you didn’t mind it so much, as long as you only ever saw her when she needed to bark orders at you. But now she stomps up and down the halls, slamming her fists into walls hard enough to dent when she catches you on break, screaming about how that stupid bitch _fucked_ her over.

You don’t ask. You don’t want to know.

 

You think her opinion of you is lowering, too – not that it was particularly _glowing_ to begin with. Each time she sees you with a cleaning apparatus in hand rather than a piece of tech, she has a new snide remark or slur for you. She spits at you, kicks at your limb enhancers. She grabs you by your feet and holds you upside down and guffaws because she thinks you look like a mop.

She kills you once, just for fun, because she’s bored. She stalks you and sneaks after you until she’s suddenly upon you, and she sticks her destabiliser through your puny chest before you even noticed she was there. You couldn’t even get out a scream before your body tore apart.

And then she has the audacity once you reform to yell at you for the mess you left behind.

You hate her.

No, you can’t hate Jasper. She’s faultless; she’s your superior. You can’t direct your anger towards a _superior._

You hate the Pearl that left you with her instead.

Though, you see why the Pearl might’ve killed herself.

 

You’re just reaffirming the ship’s coordinates in the control bridge one day when you notice her shadow leer over you, and you peek over your shoulder to find her round, fearless eyes mere inches from your own. Your body stills. She raises a hand to you and you pre-emptively wince – you knew one day she’d just stop ‘missing’ your head and strike you – but then you feel one of her oversized fingers roll down your spine. It’s not a gentle gesture by any means, but you think that it might be for her. The very thought makes you shiver.

You glance up to see her stare down at you expectantly.

“Um… thanks?” you say, bewildered. You awkwardly turn back to the panels and try to remember which number you were up to. Ah yes.

Your breath hitches when she suddenly cups your ass.

You spin away from her and try to suppress the urge to sour your face. You wonder if it would be out of line to tell her to cut it out, but you don’t really care. “Excuse me,” you mumble, low and annoyed. “Might I respectfully ask that you _stop?”_

She scoffs, like you’re funny. Her stare is vaguely amused. “No.”

“N…?” You mean to frown, but you think a more flustered expression shows itself instead, like a show of weakness that just seems to invite her in. You follow her thumb with your rounded eyes as she reaches out and pulls one of your straps down your shoulder. You stare at it, still confused.

“It’s a better look for you,” Jasper says, and you’re not entirely sure, but you think there may have been the hint of smirk to it. “It’s sexier.”

“W-what? Now, just…” You’re distracted by how out-of-place your uniform is; you right the strap, only to have Jasper yank it back down again, lower and more harshly. She pulls the other one down too and you glare dully up at her. “Oh I see. This is just another one your so-called good-natured ‘pranks’. You’re trying to make me look ridiculous and convince me that I _don’t_ look ridiculous, thereby rendering me ridiculous two-fold.”

She makes a face like she has absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, but you think even _that_ could be another ‘prank’. “Lighten up, will ya?” She takes your chin between her thumb and the curve of her forefinger – close, she’s much too close – and smiles crookedly. “We’re just having a little fun.”

“ _I’m_ not having fun.”

You try to push her away, and that’s when she suddenly grips your face so hard that she could crush you.

“No, but I am.”

Adrenaline flushes through you, forcing you to move. Everything about this scenario inarticulately screams: _danger._

“I have to go,” you murmur, but she doesn’t let you take a single step; she sweeps you off your feet and holds you to her chest, pinched in her arms. You never even realised just how _small_ you were and how _big_ she was until this very moment; she looks like she’d _eat_ you if she could. You’ve never been so starkly reminded that you’re more than several tiers down the pecking order.

“What’s the hurry, short stuff?” she teases as you gawk up at her.

“I… I-I have work to do,” you say, and you _hate_ how your voice twitters, betraying just how terrified you really are. You feel like you can’t breathe, and it only has a little to do with how tightly Jasper’s holding you. “P-Please, I need to work.”

“Right, work,” Jasper agrees, and you allow yourself a little hope before she comes down on it hard with, “Pearl’s work was delegated to you.”

You didn’t see an awful lot of the Pearl. You didn’t think to ask what _all_ of her duties were; you just did whatever you were told. And you don’t want to ask now. “I’ve been… cleaning, and… standing near you.”

You cover your face as Jasper throws her head back to belt out a laugh. “Well,” she chuckles, calming down, lowering an unreadable gaze back onto you, “I was being kind. You haven’t been filling her position in _all_ domains. But I think it’s about time you did.”

You swallow thickly. You feel like if you didn’t have Jasper’s muscled arms around you, holding you absolutely still, you’d be shaking. Your voice is about as small as you feel. “Can’t I j-just… finish these coordinates?”

She shakes her head before you even finish the question. “Shut up,” she tells you in a soft voice and your heart thumps in your chest. “Stop talking. If you say another word, I’ll destabilise you.” She leans in close and cups your face again. “If you can’t fulfil all your duties, then what use is it to keep you around? I’ll take all your tech and throw you out into space.”

There’s not an ounce of malice to her face; it all lies in her words. You’re so scared; you feel like one sharp move could make you scream.

“Now…” Your chest heaves as Jasper starts to unhook the straps from your uniform; she makes it look so easy, so casual, so practiced, like she’s done this a million times before. “I _know_ you’ll be a good girl for me. I know you won’t make me fetch the restraints.”

It’s the most gently-delivered threat you’ve ever received, but it chills you all the same.

Her fingers pause on your top, her patient eyes trained on you. The panicked haze clears just enough for you to realise that she’s waiting for your answer. “Y… Yes, Jasper,” you murmur, and she smiles kindly back at you.

“That’s my Pearl—ah, heh, Peridot.”

You don’t know what she plans to do with you. You’ve never played with your physical form before – you didn’t even know there was that much to play with – so you watch with carefully-composed dread as Jasper pushes aside the straps and pulls down your top. Your breasts bob out and Jasper makes a low, satisfied hum that starts deep in her throat and rolls throughout both your bodies, ending in your teeth. Her hand engulfs one breast and she squeezes, hard enough to make you wince, and she chuckles like you’re a remarkable little thing.

“They’re so soft,” she says as she cups them, moulds them, smooths them and wobbles them. It doesn’t feel particularly nice – more like she’s just throwing small sacks of fat around – but you don’t dare complain. If this is the worst she can do, you think you’ll live. “I wonder,” she murmurs curiously, like you’re not even present, and then she pinches one of your nipples.

You jolt; a twinge of pain. You open your mouth to say _“Ow”_ but you close it before you can. An upset little whine comes out instead and you frantically wish that Jasper won’t toss you out into the cold, empty void of space.

“Does it hurt?” she asks, pinching again, and you can help the noise, but you can’t help how your body reacts to pain. She pinches again and again and again, and you have to hide your face for all that you’re cringing. The pain pools into your breast; it sticks out from the rest of you, sore and hot and uncomfortable.

“…Answer me,” Jasper suddenly demands, voice gruff.

“Y-yes, it hurts,” you tell her quietly, not even close to sure if that was the correct response.

Jasper chuckles deeply. “Pearl didn’t feel pain. She was used to it. I could’ve ripped her entire nipple off and she still would’ve looked at me like I wasn’t giving her enough.”

You’re now even less sure that that was the correct response.

“But _you_ ,” Jasper continues, and this time she moves you; she switches to holding you under your arms and out in front of her, appraising you like some kind of wondrous little animal. “You’re new and inexperienced. Sensitive too. I bet you’ve never even had a mouth on your cunt.”

You just stare wide-eyed back at her. You don’t even want to know what that is.

Jasper raises an eyebrow at you and leers. “Have you even ever had an orgasm?”

“I’m… a technician,” you get out weakly. _I’m not a Pearl; I’m not made for this._

She snorts, like this isn’t funny so much as just plain embarrassing. “Well.” She puts you back on your feet, slow and kind, before she strikes you in the stomach with her foot and you shoot across the floor. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

You landed in a heap at the far end of the room. Your stomach roils. Your head aches where it sharply connected with the wall and one of your lower limb enhancers is detached and dented, sparking. You tremble as you reach out for it but Jasper kicks it away before you do; you watch it with futility as it flies into another wall and bursts into pieces.

“Take the rest of those off,” Jasper demands, towering over you, and you’re afraid of what she might do to them if she had to take them off herself. You decide not to stall and waste anymore of her time; you disable the rest of your limb enhancers – you’re shaky and frantic, prone to mistakes – and pull them off and scoot them away what you hope will be a safe distance. You suddenly feel a whole lot smaller and more vulnerable, curled up on the floor, shadowed by a Quartz warrior who stares down at you like she doesn’t know if she wants to crush you underfoot or play with you first.

“You’re so… puny,” she laughs, and you’re so afraid that you nervously chuckle with her. “Ah well. It’s a change.”

You flinch away as she kneels down to you and then she snatches you with both hands. Without your limb enhancers, you feel completely powerless, helpless, and there’s not even a spark of defiance left in you to constrain anymore. Now you’re just being smart; you’re minimising the amount of harm she would otherwise cause you if you didn’t do exactly as she says. You’re instantly weightless and malleable for her, deadened by shock and fear, and that makes it a hell of a lot easier for her too.

She lies down on her front, winking as she catches your eye, and she takes you by both thighs. You’re alarmed – but still loose, still lifeless – as she spreads them open and pulls them up to her face. Your head takes a small knock to the floor but that particular sensation is trumped by the completely new one on your crotch as Jasper opens her mouth and gives a long, slow lick. Every hair on your skin stands on end and you feel a series of shivers pass through you. You’re a horrendous, confused and overwhelmed _mess_ instantly, and you don’t know exactly what it is she’s doing to you, but all you know is that you need a _break._

You can’t help it; you start to chitter and cheep and make the most pathetic noises you’ve ever heard, and one of your hands slaps itself over your mouth to hold it in. Your other hand curls and clutches uselessly by your side. You can’t focus on anything, you can’t _think_ ; every inch of your body has drained of all feeling, fixed only a single point between your legs that spasms wildly, beyond your control. Your crotch feels hot and wet with Jasper’s steady, coarse laps, and you _know_ that it’s from her spit, but you can’t help but wonder if your body is reacting in ways only Jasper knows.

When Jasper finally pulls away to breathe and wipe her chin, your body sinks with relief. You’d been holding it tensed for so long; you honestly didn’t even notice until you could finally relax. You wonder if it’ll finally stop…

And then Jasper works the rest of your uniform down your torso, off your legs, and your body tenses up all over again. She chucks the uniform aside – even though it’s black, you can see the entire crotch is _sodden_ – and pushes her face back between your legs. She resumes licking you with renewed enthusiasm and you wail out, overcome and desperate, and you wonder if she’d still break you if you could work up the nerve and the coherency to tell her to _stop._ It feels harder, faster, _rawer_ without your uniform there, and your body is bucking hard enough that Jasper has to pin you still. One of her hands closes around your breasts, clenching and unclenching them, as the other rakes its nails down your stomach, over and over again. The sharp pain and the blunt, hot pressure is so jarring; your face is hot with tears and you want to _scream._

Something happens, and it’s like a wire pulled taut is finally released and it pings back, hard enough to break. The mounting sensations suddenly _surge_ , and you feel like a wreck. Your hips buck up on their own, further into Jasper’s mouth, and your whole body roils and twists and constricts. You feel your crotch flutter and pulse against Jasper’s tongue – actually _reacting to her_ – and it doesn’t stop, not even as Jasper slows her pace and forces on you one last, meticulous lick before she drops you, done with you.

You fall to the floor and roll over to shield yourself, your body still wracked with shivers and twitches. You’d thought that you would feel better once Jasper had just _stopped,_ but you don’t; you feel awful. You feel… so used. _Just like the Pearl._

The worst part was, at times, she made you feel like you actually enjoyed it. You’re almost thankful that her nails quickly saw the end to that.

You don’t want to, but you take a small peek at your aching breasts, the scratches on your stomach.

You wish that you hadn’t.

You cautiously peer up. Jasper looks about as out of breath as you are. She sits back up and wipes the sheen from her face and then, very gently, such a stark contrast to how she’s treated you thus far, she smooths a hand down your bare back. It’s gentle for you, which makes it even gentler for her. You think it would be easier if she just pummelled you into a wall and left, but she doesn’t.

She stands and you wince. She offers you a hand up, but you don’t take it. It doesn’t bother her.

“I suppose that’s enough for now,” she says. “Next time, don’t cover your mouth. I like your little noises. You sound so cute.”

She finally leaves you alone – like you’ve been silently begging from the start of all this – and it’s the implication that there will undoubtedly _be_ a next time that finally pushes you to tears.

You really, _really_ hate the Pearl who did this to you.


End file.
